


Prank War

by ExploringAce



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Characters other than the Doctor and the Master/Missy have minor cameos, Multi, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-06-09 21:11:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15276273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExploringAce/pseuds/ExploringAce
Summary: A series of pranks the Doctor and the Master play on each other.





	1. The Doctor's Big Date

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is heavily inspired by the prank war between Amir Blumenfeld and Streeter Seidell from CollegeHumor. It's not required to watch their videos to enjoy the fic, but I recommend it nonetheless, since it's brilliant entertainment. Each chapter contains a link to the video(s) it was inspired by in the notes at the end.

That self-righteous twat had taken it a step too far. The Master had been nice, or at least nice for his standards, and then the Doctor had thought he could just get away with meddling with the piece of art that was his playlist.

Whenever the Doctor was being a bit too... _pious_ in his moral beliefs, the Master liked to retreat to one of the Doctor’s pets’ rooms, wreak some havoc, and listen to one of the only good things from Earth: their music. That opportunity for an escape had been one of his conditions when accepting to join the Doctor in his TARDIS, and he was furious that the Doctor had interfered.

At first, the Master had been confused when the smooth transition from Attention To Me by The Nolans to She’s My Man by Scissor Sisters had been abrupted by a song he had never heard before, but when he looked at his phone and saw that, yes, its name was ‘Trust Me I’m A Doctor,’ it didn’t take an evil genius to figure out who was responsible.

The Doctor had probably anticipated immediate retaliation, based on his not-at-all-suspicious questions that following dinner. He should know better by now.

The Master had played his part, acting entirely oblivious. He even ended the dessert with giving the Doctor a dessert of his own, a rare occasion even now.

No, revenge was better served cold.

 

* * *

 

The Master watched with masked glee as the Doctor hurried around the consol room looking for his coat, somehow not seeing it lying right there on the consols. This incarnation really was an idiot savant. After a while of this nonsense, the Master coughed and tilted his head in its direction.

“Ah. Thanks,” the Doctor said and put it on.

“Where were you going again?” the Master said, trying to sound disinterested and focus on his phone.

“Just picking up some stuff. We’re out of milk.”

No they weren’t. ‘

“And the TARDIS is completely useless for filling up her own fridge, got it,” the Master said.

“No, but I want this special Earth milk. And a new DVD of Life On Mars, since _someone_ broke the last one.”

“The bloke creeped me out.” Even now, the Master shivered from the memory. “Well, then. Hope you don’t run into some alien that’ll eat you and spit out an uglier you.”

The Doctor gave him a ridiculously goofy smile. “Glad to know you care. Bye, Master!”

They kissed goodbye and the Doctor ran out, leaving the Master smirking menacingly.

Even without knowing where the Doctor was really going, the Master would have known he had lied. He was nervous about something, and that something was probably that the Master would follow him, see Martha, and start a conflict that would result in only one of them walking out alive. The lack of confidence in his manners was comforting.

Of course, little did the Doctor know that Martha would never show up.

It had only required a small portion of sleeping powder sprinkled into his tea to knock the Doctor out for the night. That’s what happens when you run around day after day not taking care of yourself.

While he had been sleeping, the Master had then taken the TARDIS to Martha’s room.

The girl had been showering but must have heard his arrival, since she appeared in the doorway just as the Master was picking up her phone. What resulted had been a series of threats, screams, and irreversible destruction of her room, all of which the Master was fairly sure they both were responsible for.

In the end, the Master sent the TARDIS into the vortex, Martha’s phone in hand, as he heard her yelling and knocking fade away. She truly was impressive, for a human.

Now, the Master checked the time. It had been ten minutes since the Doctor went out. That would probably be a good time to get going.

He exited the TARDIS, and the plan could have collapsed right at that very moment were it not for the Doctor’s oblivion of his surroundings.

The TARDIS had been parked right outside the café where the meeting was planned to happen, and the Master hurried out of sight before the Doctor, clearly visible through the window, would notice him. Now he just had to wait.

The Doctor was early, for once, the meeting set to take place five minutes later.

Using Martha’s phone, the Master had asked the Doctor to meet up and chat with a specific place, date, and time attached. This had been a bit of a wild shot, since the Doctor normally hated these kinds of small-talk get-togethers, so he must have been really looking forward to reunite with her. What a shame.

Minutes pass, and Martha was now officially late. The Master stole a few glimpses through the window, careful not to be seen.

The Doctor got his phone out and started texting.

Before it even pinged, the Master had the phone in hand and was ready to read.

_Hello, Martha. I’m sitting at the café. Do you want me to order you anything? -The Doctor_

The Master stifled a giggle. He really had to teach the Doctor to text better.

Another text: _I haven’t heard from you yet. Did I have the day right? -The Doctor_

The Master snorted and was just about to lean over to take another peek when a human on the street started talking to him.

“Hey, you look like that mad PM! Are you an impersonator or-”

The man was sadly cut off by his own screams as he shrank to his death by unforeseen circumstances. A woman with a baby stroller and wide eyes stared as the Master as he hid his TCE. He stuck out his tongue at her and she hurried away.

Lousy humans, interrupting his entertainment. Speaking of which, he had in the meantime received four new messages from the Doctor.

_Where are you at, Martha? -The Doctor_

_Are you on your way? -The Doctor_

_Did I get the right address? -The Doctor_

_My food’s almost ready. I’m gonna eat here. So just come whenever, I got you a cookie. -The Doctor_

The Master laughed. He looked through the window and, sure enough, the waitress came by with two cups of tea, fries, and _a cookie_.

At that, the phone finally rang. The Master picked it up at the third ring, not wanting to seem desperate.

“Hello?” the Master said.

A pause.

“I think I have the wrong number. Sorry,” the Doctor says and hangs up.

The Master laughed and, not caring whether it would expose him at this point, stood up right in front the window and started glaring the Doctor down. Still, the man only looked at this phone.

And called again.

“Hello?” the Master said yet again.

“Hi, um, is Martha there? Or did she get a new number or… do you happen to know who she is?”

“No, Martha isn’t here. But your Master is.”

“...What?”

The Master laughed. “Hey, do you have my cookie?”

“What?”

“Where’s my cookie?”

“What? Who is this?”

“Look outside!” the Master said, willing himself to look as maniacally evil as possible.

The Doctor looked at him and hurried outside. “What did you do to her?”

“Just stole her phone. Where’s my cookie?”

“Wait, you set me up?” the Doctor clearly tried to hide it, but the Master could see he was amused.

“Yes. That’ll teach you messing with my phone.”

They both laughed at that.

“I knew you’d noticed!” the Doctor said. “Though I did wonder why you ignored it.”

“I was busy planning my evil vengeance.”

“Well, that was a good one. I’ll get you back, though.”

And that he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music prank:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QigWnxyvsnU&t=1s
> 
> Date prank:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_chYJhclCXk
> 
> The music prank was altered to a bigger extent, since I personally find it unrealistic that the Doctor would incorporate clips of himself having sex and that the Master would not enjoy them. The date prank fit better into the story when altered to lunch with Martha.


	2. The Master's Audition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the timelines are gonna go a bit wibbly wobbly in this fic. Basically, Gallifrey is still there like always and the Time Lords survived.

It didn’t take the Doctor long to think of a proper prank to pull. It had been about a month after the Master had impersonated Martha and set up lunch, after which the Doctor had returned her phone and had _actually_ caught up on how she was doing. She was engaged to someone she met during the Year That Never Was and, speaking of which, she was quite taken aback when the Doctor mentioned that he, too, was in a relationship with a certain someone. He got kicked out shortly thereafter.

He didn’t know whether that meant that he couldn’t get that plus one for her wedding, but he would just be on the safe side and go alone.

Before attending any wedding, however, he and the Master were due for a Rassilon-only-knows-what year reunion at the Prydonian Academy on Gallifrey. Old friends, old enemies, and some that were both were all going to be there and so it didn’t require much convincing to get the Doctor and the Master to agree to come. They only had to threaten with replacing them in the special reunion performances as the Gallifrey Academy Hot Five.

And that’s when the Doctor took upon him the goal of lightening up the party with a tape of the Master ridiculing himself.

The plan had been simple; the Doctor hacked the BBC and made a fake advert, claiming that the company was looking for an actor to play the fifth Teletubby for a renewal of Teletubbies. The Master could not possibly let such a chance pass by.

Next, the Doctor had to ensure that the Master saw the advert. He could have pointed it out himself, but the Master had been on high alert ever since his prank, growing more paranoid with each day. He would see right through it if the Doctor were to tell him.

Instead, he asked the Rani to do it.

“No.”

“Come on! For old time’s sake.”

“Look,” she said as a Wilhelm-like scream could be heard from someone on her end. “I’m busy and I don’t want to be dragged into whatever thing you two morons are fighting over this time.”

“Okay, but just imagine this: our whole class laughing at the Master, him walking in, and his face when he sees it. I’ll take all the blame, I promise.”

“He won’t be making a face, he’ll be trying to kill us all.”

“No, no he won’t,” the Doctor said, suddenly remembering that was a probable outcome. “He’s changed. He’s a lot calmer and more rational.”

“Right.”

“But if he does anything, I swear I'll take full responsibility.”

She was quiet for a moment, seeming to think it over. What the Doctor guessed to be a kind of raptor barked in the background. “Fine. He needs to be taken down a peck or two. Send the link and I’ll forward it.”

And at that, the plan was in motion. The following day, the Master received the link, though he didn’t tell about it. That was no surprise. If he chose to give it a try, he would have to follow a few odd directions.

The advert requested that before any interview was to be had, the actor were to send in a tape of them doing a set of impressions. It was the Doctor’s luck that the Master actually did it and sent it to the specified address, not knowing that is was one UNIT’s bases of operation.

The Doctor had honestly tried to time it so that he would arrive before anyone there would watch it, but he was a bit late. At least he had the opportunity to meet the Brigadier's daughter, Kate Stewart. They shared a few laughs, the Doctor made some comments about guns, and they parted as friends. With the tape tucked safely in his pocket, he left.

As the last bit of luck before everything would go down, the Master insisted on being “fashionably late,” allowing the Doctor to leave early and somehow set up the video to the much more advanced screen in the academy’s big party hall.

When he was done and ready to present, he walked to the stage and took the mic.

“Hello, Prydonians! Theta Sigma here.” He saw that not everyone had come yet, but he was afraid the Master would interrupt if he waited much longer. It'd just have to do, then. “I have a bit of a surprise for you all, especially those from the Deca that could attend tonight.”

He started fumbling with the remote until a picture of the Master showed up on the screen, frozen mid-sentence. After a brief explanation of the prank, the Doctor played the video and hilarity ensued.

The first impression should have been an easy one, a “moustache-twirling villain,” since the Master had basically been one most of his life. But it just wasn’t the same in his current body, and the Master was left stroking an imaginary goatee with a laugh that was way more manic than actually evil.

Next, a human celebrity, Neil Armstrong. Here, the Master tried a half-hearted attempt at citing the famous, “one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind,” before switching over to a rant about how Armstrong hadn’t been the first human, let alone person, to walk on the moon. It went on for so long that the Doctor had edited the video, which halfway through the rant skipped to the next impression.

Which was Harold Saxon himself. Here, the Master chose to just quote himself from various out-of-context moments under the guise.

Then came Taylor Swift. Of all her songs, the Doctor would have expected “Look What You Made Me Do” or “Bad Blood,” but the Master went the more old school way and sang “Love Story” with the passion of someone who didn’t know how the Shakespearean play really ended.

The only one the Doctor hadn't included from the tape was the Master acting out "a man dying from a gunshot wound" by playing himself _and_ the Doctor from the moment Lucy shot him on the Valiant. That one was a bit too awkward to show.

During all the impressions, the Doctor stood by the door, looking out in the hallway for when the Master would arrive. Just when the “Italian art film director” one started (with the Master just steepling his fingertips and repeatedly saying, “yes. Yes. Yes.”) the man of the hour arrived, his steps echoing in the otherwise empty hallway.

The Doctor quickly closed the door and jogged in his direction.

“Hey, Master! Did you notice the new paintings in the hallway? What do you think?”

“They’re alright,” the Master said. “Don’t like the Peladonian one, though.”

He was wearing one of his fancier suits, though not completely over-the-top. Still, they both would look out of place among all the Gallifreyan robes and headdresses.

“But otherwise,” the Master said, walking past the Doctor and opening the door, “they seem…”

A quick glimpse of the Master impersonating a “deaf person on the toilet,” wherein he pretended to sit on an imaginary toilet and mumble random words, could be seen before he closed the door and wordlessly walked back the way he had come from.

“What’s wrong, Master?” the Doctor asked, not able to keep his excitement out of his voice any longer.

“I knew it,” Master said and stopped. Then he started yelling and jumping up and down. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”

The Doctor couldn’t help but laugh. “So, did you get the part?”

The Master started walking away again, the Doctor following right behind.

“Did you get it?” he asked again.

“I knew it,” the Master said, now with a smirk and his eyes intense.

The Doctor did a mock impression of the Master’s Italian art film director before bursting into laughter again. “The Rani was in on it.”

“Of course. And the tape?”

“Arrived at UNIT. Kate Lethbridge-Stewart sends her regards and wishes you a successful acting ca-”

“You realize I have to kill them all now, right?”

“Wait, nO!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Audition prank:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xgzhIV9D2SE&t=51s
> 
> As neither the Doctor nor the Master have serious ambitions about being actors, I had to change the prank so that the audition would still be an appealing offer for the Master. I also couldn't think of a better way to have common acquaintances/friends gathered for the showing than at a Gallifrey Academy reunion.


	3. The Doctor Bombs

Unfortunately, the Master didn’t get to kill anyone at the reunion. Whoever had arranged that event had made sure the security was extra tight, and the Master was knocked unconscious by a guard before he could even pull out a weapon. Maybe next time.

Meanwhile, he would have to think of a proper retaliation. The Doctor hadn’t just humiliated him; he’d humiliated him publicly, in front of old friends and enemies. The Master would find a way to repay the favor.

As part of their let’s-try-to-cooperate-instead-of-fighting-and-dying-in-each-others’-arms deal, they took turns saving people and wreaking havoc. That would entail some adventures of the Doctor being the sanctimonious savior of some incompetent fools while the Master trudged along, usually pretty annoyed or bored, and other adventures - these ones much more thrilling - where the Master would let loose and the Doctor would do his best to stop him, old school style but still friendly enough to not kill each other.

And then there were the travels where they would do something they both enjoyed - like the one two weeks after the reunion party. They were on a planet on the outer rim of its galaxy, surprisingly well-travelled compared to its accessibility. This was, according to the Doctor, due to a shop selling the best chocolate ice cream in the universe.

The Master was sceptical of this; he knew in his hearts that nothing beat the Nekkistani Caramel-Choco Fusion Delight. Nonetheless, he would never turn down good ice cream.

One unreasonably long queue and large payment later, the two Time Lords were enjoying themselves, eating their dessert while looking out on the bright purple mountains in the distance.

The Master finished his admittedly delicious (though not _that_ delicious) ice cream and decided to go head-in with the next step of his newest plan for a prank.

“So, where are we going next?” he said. “It’s one of yours, right?”

“Yep, think so,” the Doctor said. He reached his hand to the Master’s face and wiped off a small remainder of ice cream from his beard. “Missed a spot.”

After the Master had run into several people recognizing him as Harold Saxon on their travels, he had gotten continuously more annoyed until he remembered that he didn’t need the politician’s clean-shaved, baby bottom-smooth face any more and grew another goatee. You could never go wrong with one of those. Additionally, after the Doctor’s last prank, several old classmates had tried contacting him, writing messages about his “brilliant acting.”  It had been the last straw when Drax, even _Drax_ , had mustered up whatever courage the imbecile had and mocked him. This all led to him coloring his hair a bit greyer, not wanting to look old, but at least demanding a bit of the respect he had lost.

Overall, a nice new look without a new body. This one seemed to be quite versatile.

“Can I choose the destination this time?” the Master asked. “We’ll still do the saving and all that, but I want it to be at least a tad bit interesting. Remember 14th century Earth?”

“Ugh,” the Doctor said. “Yeah, that one was a mistake. Nothing good about the 14th century. Alright, then. Anything in mind?”

“Not yet.” Of course there was. A perfect planet and time had already been picked and prepared for, the Master having already visited once to make sure everything was in order for their visit. “I’ll look something up. In the meantime, how about we go back and look through your TARDIS’s wardrobe? I could use a new pair of black leather gloves.”

The Doctor gulped at that. “Oh. What, um… what are you gonna use those for?”

He smirked at that. “Depends on how long you’re gonna make me wait for you to finish that ice cream. Maybe I won’t be in the mood if it takes too long.”

They both hurried back to the TARDIS, leaving half a cone of the so-called best chocolate ice cream in the universe.

 

* * *

 

The two races of Pilthal had been locked in conflict for as long as they’d shared the same planet. The only differentiating trait - the either yellow or green color of their hands and feet - was the deciding factor in whether the Pilthalian was comfortable, rich, and all-around privileged or - simply put - a slave. For the past few centuries it had been the Yellows who were privileged and the Greens who were slaves.

That was until the Doctor and the Master arrived, punched some fascist faces (sadly only metaphorically), and tipped the scales in what seem balanced in the beginning but would probably tip in someone’s favor before too long. The Doctor, however, had a plan to make the peace last.

The two Time Lords stood in a large room, surrounded by all the tag-alongs from their adventure - the Leader, the Comic Relief, the Radical, one part of the Couple That Was Tragically Separated Due To One Of Them Dying, the Exposition/Child, the Romantic Interest whom the Master was still eyeing suspiciously, and a couple others who weren’t really important to the overall plot.

The Radical had just come up with the very original eye-for-an-eye idea to suppress the Yellows as quickly as possible, and the Leader seemed to be considering it. This led to an educational speech from the Doctor.

While the Doctor started rambling, the Master activated his modified laser screwdriver with its new Neural Control Application. The application worked by allowing the Master to secretly control the surrounding Pilthalians with very specific, pre-programmed command terms. One of these - the "stare blankly at the Doctor" - was the first to be put into effect.

“So as you can understand, violence only brings more violence and, I’m sorry, are you listening?” the Doctor said. “You don’t seem like you’re following.”

The surrounding Pilthalians were still staring silently, until one of them yelled, “Go back to where you came from, you boring hippy!”

The Doctor seemed to falter at that. “Um, what?”

“You’re boring!” someone else yelled this time.

The Master had the perfect view to see the Doctor’s flustered face while still able to discreetly work the screwdriver on the aliens. He was smirking but said nothing.

“Well, maybe I talk too much sometimes,” the Doctor said, running his hand through his spiky hair. “But you need to understand that the only way out of that hateful cycle would be to-”

“Leave! We don’t want hippies here!”

The Doctor’s face grew more red. “Sure, I will, soon, but just listen to me. People will die-”

“From boredom!” The Pilthalians started laughing.

Giving the Master a ‘ _can you believe them ?_ ’ look, the Doctor shook his head. “Okay, what’s your problem?”

The Master was almost impressed with the Doctor, who looked like he was getting increasingly agitated. He made the crowd quiet down again.

“Right, so what was I talking about?” the Doctor said. All of his positive energy seemed to have been drained from him. “Some stuff about a new government, slavery, and guns are bad-”

“You’re worse!”

Again, the Pilthalians started laughing and cheering. The Master, not able to stop himself, joined them.

“Yes. Hysterical,” the Doctor said. “But it’s really important that-”

“You leave us alone!”

“Alright, you know what? You figure it out yourself, then,” the Doctor said and stomped out the room.

The Master clapped along with the Pilthalians. “The Doctor, everybody! Now, we really gotta go, but we enjoyed the tribute to your savior immensely! Remember, separating the Greens into smaller groups, giving some of them more power than the others, is a great way to rule them,” he added before following the Doctor out.

When he caught up to him, the Doctor was still upset.

“Did you see that?” the Doctor said.

“Yeah.”

“What in Rassilon’s name. That was the first time that’s happened.”

Again, he started running his hand through his hair. “I don’t understand. Anix had seemed so reasonable before. And Solim called me a hippy! He’s the one who literally fastened himself to a tree so it wouldn’t get cut down!”

The Master laughed and decided it was time to reveal himself. “I made them do it.”

The Doctor shook his head. “I don’t know whether I want to believe you.”

“It’s true.” He took out his laser screwdriver and dislodged the small black chip that was the Neural Control Application, showing it to the Doctor. “I used this.”

The Master then started explaining how it worked and saw the Doctor’s face slowly turn to from disbelief to shock.

“But… what did you do that for? What about the Pilthalians?”

“They should be themselves by now. But they probably feel pretty embarrassed.” The Master smirked. “Not as much as you did, though.”

The Doctor’s eyebrows almost reached his hairline by this point. “You did all of that for a _prank_?”

“You know, I feel really bad,” the Master said sarcastically, “but then I remember how many old classmates have mocked me the last few weeks.”

“That’s different, these people didn’t know what was going on! So… you just stood there and made them say it?”

“Yeah.”

“That… someone could have been really traumatized by that, with the loss of control and everything.”

“Oh, come on, don’t try to make me feel bad, you know it won’t work.”

Entering the TARDIS, the Doctor sat down and had the tiniest hint of a smile. “That was a mean one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Audience prank:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vFPu4oSlIPE


	4. The Master's Big Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter got way too long. It's longer than the previous three chapters put together even though I tried to cut down on it as much as possible while maintaining a coherent and entertaining story. I considered seperating it into several chapters, but it didn't feel right to have a chapter of a prank war fic without any pranks in it.  
> In short, I apologize for my lack of consistency. I can't promise that the future three chapters will be any less irregular in length.
> 
> On another note, this chapter does heavily feature characters not shown on TV (or at least not AS shown on TV), namely the main four characters from the Gallifrey audio series. It's not required to have listened to the series to understand the chapter; it's still mostly about the Doctor making fun of the Master. It doesn't spoil any major things from the audio series, but it hints a bit at one of the archs of series 2.  
> For those who are curious, the Gallifrey part takes place somewhere between series 1 and series 2 of the audio series.

The Doctor had thought of a brilliant plan. No, not just brilliant, spectacular, magnificent, _fantastic_. It was, however, a bit too mean, he could admit that. I'd raise the Master's expectations about something more than just a TV show from Earth, and it would yet again involve going to Gallifrey, which none of them were too happy about on principal. He’d just have to mull it over.

It wasn't like there was much else to do at the moment. After having mysteriously disappeared out of the blue after excusing himself one evening, the Master was still nowhere to be found a week later. At first, the Doctor had just thought he wanted some alone time, but when he hadn’t returned for travels or movie night or any of the other of the small activites they'd started sharing, the Doctor had started growing concerned.

After searching through the TARDIS for a while, he thought that maybe the Master had taken a trip somewhere on his own. He went to the console room and started checking its travel history when the door opened and three figures stepped inside.

One was the Master, looking the same as he had when the Doctor had last seen him, the new silvery grey goatee and all. The other two, however, were unknown, though they were probably Time Lords or at least aliens from another technologically advanced society if their lack of, “it’s bigger on the inside!” comments were anything to go by.

“Here you go,” one of them said, an old-looking man with a ragged coat and wild, grey hair that the Doctor couldn’t help but respect. “One Master ready-delivered. Please keep a better look on him next time.”

He sounded agitated, and the Doctor immedietly felt sympathy for the two strangers for whatever the Master had done to them. 

“What did he do this time?” the Doctor asked.

“Spoilers,” the man said.

The other stranger, a woman looking eerily similar to Mary Poppins, walked towards the Doctor, gripping his tie. “You just wait and see. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”

“No he won’t,” the man said, glaring at the woman.

The Doctor looked between the two, then at the Master who was just standing there grinning, then back at the two, and then it clicked.

He looked at the woman. “Mas- um… Mistress?”

Her smile widened at that, growing to a familiar, almost predatory one. “Missy’s just fine.” She stepped back, blowed him a kiss, and walked back out.

The Doctor looked at himself, or who he would become, and realized just how furious he was. Memories of dealing with the Racnoss jumped to mind, and for a moment he was nervous that such lapses of fury would become more common.

“What did they do? You must tell me,” he said, not hiding his sudden desperation.

The future Doctor sighed, looking infinitely old and tired. “What they were always gonna do, I suppose.” He turned to leave and moved his hand up for a half-hearted wave, and the Doctor saw the smallest glints of golden light.

The future Doctor noticed too and put his hand behind his back, but the damage was already done.

“That plan that you’re thinking of,” the future Doctor said, glancing at the Master before returning his gaze to the Doctor. “Do it.”

He then went out the door and the console room turned quiet.

Carefully, the Master stalked to the Doctor’s side. “So…”

“So.”

“I become a woman.” The Master scratched his beard. “Not exactly what I’d been hoping for.”

“And I,” the Doctor did his math again, just to be safe, just to be absolutely certain, “will undergo my last regeneration because of you?”

He didn't really know how to feel about that. It was ironic, he had to admit, almost poetic, but he still thought they'd gotten further than that, that they wouldn't take it  _that_ far again. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

The Master didn’t respond and the Doctor looked at him, properly looked at him, trying to catch his gaze. “Tell me. What happened?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, we’ll forget about it anyway. I’ve already lost most of the details.”

The Doctor hated how right he was. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, it’d probably be a fixed point in time. Nothing to be done now.

They stood there until the Doctor forgot what he was doing. He ran his hand through his hair, his head feeling a bit fuzzy.

“So,” the Master said, looking a bit confused as well. “Movie night? We can watch one from Earth if you like.”

He shook his head. “Nah. Don’t really feel like it. I’ll just head to bed early.”

He didn’t know why he was in such a somber mood, but right now he just needed a break from the Master. Odd, he couldn’t remember them even having spent time together all week, but for some reason he was more than just a bit annoyed at him.

He thought about the idea he’d had for a prank. Maybe it was good, after all. A little voice in his head told him to do it, and really, it wasn’t _that_ bad. The Master would find it funny, afterwards.

He decided to write a message to his old friend, the Lady President Romana.

 

* * *

 

Luckily, the Doctor not only succeeded in persuading Romana to help him with his prank, but also Leela - who was another old friend - Braxiatel - who he would rather not meet again but, alas, it would be worth it for the prank - and Narvin. He didn’t really know what to think of Narvin.

Only those four and himself knew about the plan, and it would probably not be executed in public. That should stop the Master from wanting to kill anybody afterwards. Hopefully.

According to the outline the Doctor had sent Romana, she should have sent a special message to the Master about half an hour ago. He only hoped he would actually read it and not automatically file it under ‘Time Lords Making Fun of Me Because of the Doctor.'

It did seem successful when the Master walked into the library with a smirk on his face. “Guess what.”

The Doctor put down the book he’d been pretending to read in case the Master would come. “What?”

“They’re making me chancellor.”

“Oh?” The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Of What?”

“The Time Lords! Gallifrey! I got a personal message from the Lady President herself.” He threw himself dramatically into one of the armchairs. “Not sure I’m gonna take it, though.”

The Doctor decided not the rise to the bait. “I understand that.”

“You do?” the Master said with a frown.

“Sure. I mean, I’ve never been chancellor, but being the president was a bother. Too boring, just ordering people around.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” the Master said. “Sounds like something I’d be better at than you, anyway. But I’m just worried it’s not a serious offer. Why would she pick  _me_ of all people when she probably dislikes my evil genius as much as the others?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Romana doesn’t really take being president seriously,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “As to why she’d want to pick _you_ , I don’t know. You could always meet with her and find out.”

The Master seemed to think it over. “You know what? I will. And if she _is_ just going to mock me in some way, I’ll just try to hack the matrix and mess with it again.”

“Sounds nice.” He returned his gaze to the book. “When should we leave?”

“You want to go, too?”

“It’s been a while since I last saw her,” he said with a shrug. “Two, maybe three regenerations? Blimey, time goes by fast. I think Leela's still there, too. Remember her?”

“Ah, yes. The savage.” The Master chuckled lightly. “Alright, then. Let’s wait a week or two, don’t want to seem too desperate.”

The Doctor nodded. The plan was an overall success so far, though he’d probably have to warn Romana about an incoming matrix attack.

 

* * *

 

About a week and a half later, both Time Lords were preparing the TARDIS for their trip to Gallifrey. The Doctor was setting the coordinates while the Master steered. Piloting the TARDIS was really much easier with two people who knew what they were doing.

“So,” the Doctor said, “is going back in disgrace worth it?”

“Are you referring to my many past devious deeds?” the Master said with a hint of a smirk. “I mean, it won’t feel like it at first. I don’t delude myself into thinking I have many fans back home. But this would be a great opportunity to one day become president, so yeah. It’s worth it.”

The TARDIS landed. Drawing in a breath, the Master looked the the Doctor, giving his _I don’t care_ look that really meant he cared a great deal. “Not gonna miss me too much, right?”

“Of course not.” The Doctor drew him into an embrace. “I’ll visit. And when I do, you can tell me all about your political schemes, and I can tell you about my travels, and we can both pretend to be interested. And then we’ll have secret sex in every room in the Citadel.”

“Even Romana’s office?”

“Even Romana’s office. Just… maybe not Braxiatel’s.”

The Master smiled at that. “Good plan.” He walked towards the exit, hand on the door. “Here goes nothing.”

He was worried. The Master was worried. It hit the Doctor so suddenly. Of course, the Master had always had ambition, but he’d never seemed interested in ruling Gallifrey other than that one time he tried to take it over. Actually doing the work as a leader in an eligible, non-authoritarian way had never seemed like one of his goals. But maybe this was just because it had never seemed like a real possibility before. Taking over a comparatively underdeveloped planet was much easier than winning votes and tricking enemies in one of the most powerful civilizations in the universe.

Maybe this was a bad idea. The Doctor had given him false hope, actually made him believe that such a dream was possible. If this could truly sate the Master’s thirst for power, then wasn’t it something he should support him in instead of exploit?

But then that tiny voice spoke again. _Do it_. The plan was in motion, Romana was waiting, and the Master had already been made to believe in the proposition. Going a bit further, just a tiny bit, wouldn’t make the damage much worse.

They walked out of the TARDIS and were welcomed by two familiar faces.

“Ah, Leela and Romana!” the Doctor said and went in for a hug with the former. The latter, he gave a courteous nod, as he knew she’d appreciate with the Master around. “So glad to see you. I was surprised to hear about your new position as the president’s bodyguard, Leela, but I imagine you’re more than qualified for the job.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Leela said. She seemed a bit uncomfortable, but whether that was because of the Doctor not not having a recognizable face or the Master being, well, the Master, was hard to say.

“Good to see you too, Doctor,” Romana said. Her voice grew more tense. “Can’t say the same for you, Master.”

He looked at her like a cat eyeing a mouse. The Doctor felt a bit worried on her behalf but then reminded himself that she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

“You did ask for me, didn’t you, Lady President?”

She sighed. “That I did. It’s a long story, but my political opposition has started growing, and I do not need more resistance with my new ideas for the inclusion of other temporal races into Gallifrey’s Academy and terrorists threatening us and-”

The doors swooshed as Coordinator Narvin ran in. “Emergency!” he yelled in a dull voice.

“Not yet, Coordinator,” Romana said. “Come back in about five microspans.”

He groaned and walked back out the room.

“Wasn’t that something important?” the Master asked.

“Not really. Now, you see the predicament I’m in. It’s not going too well. What I need is, simply put, someone like you, whom everyone hates. Since there’s no Vice President, it’d mean that if I were to lose my position in any way other than an election - let’s say an _accident_ \- it’d be you who takes over the highest position on Gallifrey. No one wants that. It also shifts some of the blame for the going ons unto you, since you’re so despicable that they can easily find the motivation to blame you for virtually anything. Compared to that, I’ll be seen in a more positive light.”

The Doctor tried to send Romana discreet looks telling her to _please_ tone it down a bit. The offer had to be realistic, and she couldn’t just come up to the Master like they were best friends, but outright insulting him would just result in him leaving and maybe unleashing a bit of chaos on his way out.

The Master didn’t seem put off, though. On the contrary, his smirk had only widened during the talk.

“I can do that,” he said. “Don’t mind my bragging, but causing controversy is one of my specialties.”

“That’s what I 'm counting on,” she said. She gave Leela a quick glance before looking back at the Master like he was a dirty spot on her robe. “I won’t pretend to like our partnership, but if you can show that you’ll be up for the task, I’ll make you my chancellor.”

“Excellent, Lady President.”

“Then you won’t mind going through a few exercises first?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Just going through various scenarios that might arise. Simple tests to show that you can take on being the chancellor. Your first one should arrive shortly.”

She stared at the door, but nothing happened. The four stood there in awkward silence for a while.

“I said, your first one should arrive _shortly_!” she yelled.

Again, the doors swooshed open to reveal Narvin with a bored expression on his face. “Is it now?”

“Yes, it’s now!”

He sighed. “Emergency!”

“With a bit more urgency, if you please, Coordinator.”

“You know, this is a waste of CIA resources. I should get back to my actual job and not waste time trying to tri-”

“Training the future chancellor is most certainly a good use of your time. Besides, you had nothing to do, anyway.”

“I’ll let you know that I have plenty of vital cases that need looking into.”

“Like your case from yesterday where you tried to investigate why Braxiatel was sneezing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know if someone had started poisoning cardinals?”

“It’s called _pollen allergy_ , even Time Lords have it. Now, would you mind getting back to the emergency?”

Admitting defeat, Narvin turned to the Master. “There’s an emergency, _chancellor_.” He seemed to hate himself for even speaking the word to him. “A group of antagonistic aliens have captured the Lady President and are holding her hostage. What do we do?”

The Master looked between Narvin and Romana. “The president is right here.”

“That one is nothing more than a biological fabrication to deceive you into thinking she's safe. The real one is taken hostage. What do we do?”

“Well,” the Master said, stroking his goatee. “We _could_ give in to their demands. Weapons or money?”

“Money.”

“Money, then. But giving in to one enemy lets the rest of them think they can get away with doing the same. I’d send in an elite task force, probably some of your most qualified CIA agents, and take them down with strict orders of not endangering the President’s life.”

Narvin did seem flattered at the response, but Romana looked dissatisfied.

“Sending in people blasting with guns would automatically endanger my life,” she said. “Also, not wanting to sacrifice a few resources for the planet’s most powerful person shows great weakness. How much did the aliens demand, Coordinator?”

“One credit.”

“ _One_ ,” Romana said. “Imagine if that scandal was to be known throughout the universe. Gallifrey not wanting to sacrifice a single credit for its president. Not even absolute bankruptcy would suffice as an excuse.”

Her gaze shifted from the Master, who stood like paralyzed, to the Doctor. “Just out of curiosity, Doctor, what would you do?”

He shrugged. “Probably do what the CIA seems to do in every emergency: send myself. I’d go - unarmed, of course - and talk them down. Since the amount demanded is so low, I could maybe be persuaded to double the offer if they in turn agreed to keep quiet about the whole affair.”

Romana seemed to think it over. “Yes… no one would know about my kidnapping and that they were only demanding a single credit for my release. The humiliation of that itself would have been catastrophical. Good answer.” She looked back towards the Master. “Not what I was looking for in you, though. Braxiatel should be here shortly, he’ll give you other things to do. If I were you, I’d do better next time.”

As if on cue, Braxiatel walked in. “Am I late?”

“Perfect as always, Brax. Could you please take the Master with you?”

“Of course.” He gave the Doctor a look. “Doctor.”

He met his gaze. “Braxiatel.”

He then gestured for the Master to follow him and left the room.

Grinning, the Doctor ignored courtesy and Time Lord norms and gave Romana a hug. “Oh, really, that was brilliant.”

“You think so?” she said, seeming slightly proud.

“Most definitely! Though I was worried you were too harsh in your reasons for making him chancellor.”

She shrugged. “I couldn’t resist. So, what is this prank war you have going on?”

They sat down and he told them about what had happened so far. Even Narvin stayed and listened - probably because he really didn’t have anything better to do - until Romana asked him to go give the Master another emergency test. Regardless of what he answered, Narvin and Braxiatel would tell him of a better way and sound disappointed. That was the running theme of all the exercises; no matter how well the Master actually did, he would be told that he utterly failed. This would continue until the Master would inevitably leave in rage.

“It sound like things are going just fine between you and the Master,” Romana said.

“Well, as fine as it’s ever going to be. There’ll always be a bit of tussling.”

Leela, who had remained silent through most of the talking, finally spoke up. “I do not understand you, Doctor.”

Oh, Leela. “I know.”

“No, you do not, because if you did, you would have never invited him into the TARDIS. The Doctor I knew, the Doctor I know you still are, because I can still see him in you, he would never do this.”

“Look, I know it must be hard to understand, but there’s more to him than just the evil villain.”

“It should not matter if he is funny or charming or clever, because, you said so yourself, he is _evil_. Nothing else you add to that can make up for what he has done. For what is still to come.”

“Leela,” Romana said, taking her hand into her own. “Time Lords are different from humans. We change so much throughout our lifetimes and we’re… more complicated than that.”

“Yes, I know. I am not stupid. I can see that you change, both in body and in personality, and if he had truly changed, if he had turned good, that would be different. But he has not. He might be wearing a different face, another mask, but under that he is still the same evil creature he always was.” She rose from her seat. “I have to go.”

Romana and the Doctor were quiet as she left the room.

“She has a point, you know,” Romana said.

“But he isn’t evil incarnate!” the Doctor said. “And I’ve known him since we were children. Mischievous, most definitely, but he’s not actually _evil_.”

“But is he good? And more importantly, is he good for you?”

Before he got a chance to respond, she got up to leave too.

“I’ll go check on Leela. Maybe she’ll want a friend to talk to.” Her eyes widened. “Not that you aren’t-”

“I know,” he said. “I understand. You go, I’ll check on how the Master’s doing.”

His friends had a hard time understanding his relationship with the Master. Recently, he’d been trying to be more open about it, outright telling Martha and and talking with Romana and Leela about it, but none of them condoned it. They did have a point, though - he didn’t even know if it was a good idea himself.

Walking down the halls of the Citadels brought back memories of his own time in office. He didn’t fathom why the Time Lords had kept pestering him about becoming president when it was so clear he was better off traveling time and space, helping people and exploring far-off places. He didn’t understand how Romana - and apparently the Master, too - could want to stay on Gallifrey after having had a taste of it all.

As he got closer to Braxiatel’s office, he started hearing yelling. He tried to listen in from the outside and heard Brax and the Master arguing about… tulips?

“No, of course not!” Braxiatel yelled, and since when did he yell? “Lord Delox hates tulips! Do you want him to start a revolt?”

“Then what do you suggest? A parade _without_ flowers?” the Master yelled as if it was the most atrocious idea in the universe. “Maybe we could just decorate it with toilet paper?”

“I suggest _any other flower_  in the universe! Besides, suggesting to TP the parade honouring the Lady President is certainly not chancellor-worthy behaviour, and I’ll be sure to tell her such!”

“ _Daffodils_ , then!”

“Any other flower _besides_ daffodils!”

Down the hall, a woman with a scowl was rapidly approaching. The Doctor tried his best to look like he hadn’t just been eavesdropping and probably failed, but she didn’t seem to care, passing him as if he didn’t exist and entering Braxiatel’s office. The Doctor entered behind her.

“Cardinal Braxiatel, mind telling me where I can find the Lady President?” she said, acid in her voice. “She’s not in her office, and I’m sure you can help.”

“Ah, Darkel. How wonderful to see you,” Braxiatel said, showing an uncharacteristically clear dislike. “I’m afraid she’s rather busy today. Try again tomorrow.”

He gestured to the door, but she didn’t seem to take the hint.

“Then perhaps you can tell my why I wasn’t informed about her new policies regarding the Academy earlier?” she said. “And why I had to hear it from the _savage_ of all people?”

Before Braxiatel had a chance to stop him, the Master stepped forward. “They’re hardly new views, Inquisitor Prime. Romana has done her best in forging a strong alliance with the other temporal forces for quite some time now, setting the first cornerstones early on in her presidency. It is, however, a shame that we forgot to inform you, and I promise you personally that the mistake won’t be repeated.”

Braxiatel sent the Doctor the same look as when they’d been much younger and he'd taken the fall for the Doctor blowing up a lab at the Academy. Meanwhile, Darkel was staring at the Master in confusion.

“And who in Rassilon’s name might you be, then?”

“The Master,” he said politely. “Soon to be chancellor.”

Now Braxiatel was giving the Doctor the same look as when the Doctor had stolen the President's daughter and he’d been left to clean up the mess.

“The Master? As chancellor?” She laughed so hard tears sprang to her eyes. The Master gave Braxiatel a questioning look while Braxiatel was almost fuming and the Doctor was considering whether this prank was just one big mistake afterall.

“Romana’s going insane, isn’t she?” Darkel said between giggles. “Oh, this is brilliant. It’s political suicide! I’ve got to go tell Valyes.” And off she went.

Silence descended on the three remaining Time Lords.

“I take it she hadn’t heard, yet,” the Master said.

“No. She hadn’t,” Braxiatel said between clenched teeth.

The doors slid open again and Romana entered alongside Narvin and Leela.

“What’s the matter with Darkel?” Romana asked. “She took one look at me in the hallway and started laughing like a maniac.”

“I’ll tell you later,” Braxiatel said.

“Right. In the meantime,” she said and faced the Master. “I’ve gotten reports from Narvin about how you handled the emergencies he gave you. Apparently, you did very poorly.”

“Really, I didn’t get enough information,” the Master said. “If it had been real, I would have done much better-”

“It’s a good thing it wasn’t real,” she said. “Because you failed spectacularly. Braxiatel? How did he do here?”

He sighed. “Very poorly. I simply can’t recommend him to you in good conscience. He wanted to put tulips on the We Love the President Day parade.”

“Tulips? But Lord Delox hates tulips.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Now, hold on,” the Master said. “Such an important position can’t simply be about choosing flowers!”

“It’s about everything from the biggest catastrophe to the smallest detail, such as a flower,” Romana said. “I almost feel like apologizing, because it was clearly a waste of all of our time to call you here. I need someone who’ll take this job seriously.”

She then turned her look to the Doctor, and oh, how he’d looked forward to this part.

“Maybe…” she said. “Doctor? What flower would _you_ put on the parade?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Hmm… daisies?”

“Daisies…” she said. “Daisies! _Daisies,_ of course! Why didn’t I think of that?”

“So simple,” Braxiatel said, “yet so elegant, so exquisite, so sublime. It’s nothing less than perfect!”

“What?” the Master said.

“Doctor,” Romana said, walking up to him and doing her best awestruck impression. “It would be a crime to ask you to be chancellor, because you deserve to be _president_ . Please, do me the favor - no, _Gallifrey_ the favor of yet again taking up the mantle of president, of leading us into a brighter tomorrow, of-”

The Master stormed out of the room without a word.

Romana dropped the act. “Too much?”

“No,” the Doctor said, a big grin on his face. “Just perfect, I think. I’ll go check on him and tell him about the prank.”

He walked out and saw the Master pacing back and forth in the hallway. When he came close, the Master glared at him.

“What in Rassilon’s name was all of that?” the Master sneered.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a better politician than you? I mean, I’ve been president a couple of times by now.”

The Master seemed to be slowly deflating, still frustrated but also a bit sad. “Well, honestly, I think I was better. Maybe not at choosing _flowers_ , but overall at what we were practicing and the whole chancellor business.”

“Well, whatever. But I’m certainly better at pranking you.”

“But what I’m talking about is that what went on here was really-”

Oh, how could one so brilliant be so thick sometimes? The Doctor took hold of the Master’s face, looking him in the eyes, and repeated it slowly. “I’m better. At pranking. You. Old friend.”

His grin slowly spread to the Master.

“Wait…” he said.

“I got you! I got you good!”

He saw the Master finally put the pieces together.

“What do you mean, I-” he said.

“It’s a prank, Master!”

The Doctor put his arm around the Master’s shoulder as Romana, Leela, Braxiatel, and Narvin all came out, trying to stifle their laughs.

“It’s just a prank,” the Doctor said. “I asked them to say everything you did what horrible.”

“Are you serious? So I was doing it perfectly! So I _am_ still going to be chancellor.”

Oh no.

“Wait, no the whole…” the Doctor tried, but the others were already laughing even harder.

“You?” Romana said. “I would rather have _Narvin_ as my chancellor!”

Narvin added, “And I would rather be slung into a black hole than be chancellor, but both still beat  _you_ getting the job!”

“It’s not… it’s all a prank,” the Doctor tried to explain.

“What?” the Master said, though he looked like he was finally getting it.

“Romana’s not looking for a chancellor. This whole thing was a prank,” the Doctor said. He couldn’t help but smile. The plan had worked so perfectly that the Master still had thought Romana'd been serious! He’d have to thank them all properly for their help afterwards. “I got you so good!”

“You didn’t get me good! This is not…This isn’t getting me.”

“Come on, Master-”

“What? I’m serious.” He started looking misty-eyed, and the Doctor realized that maybe it’d all gone too far. The Doctor looked at where the others had been, but they were already hurrying back into Braxiatel's office.

“Going back to Gallifrey is getting me?” the Master said. “That’s not getting me! Embarrassing me in front of people…”

It’d only been four people this time, five if you counted Darkel. That was an improvement, right?

“I mean…” The Doctor tried to find something to say.

“What? What do you mean?”

When the Doctor couldn’t answer, the Master stormed away again, leaving the Doctor to regret ever messing with his playlist to begin with.

After a moment, he went back into Braxiatel’s office. The others stopped talking when he entered, saw the Master was missing, and started asking him questions.

He explained what’d happened, and Romana sighed. “Doctor, the stakes are only getting higher. You’ve got to realize that it’s only going to get worse.”

How right she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big Break prank:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xnLp55MzpH4
> 
> This isn't the end of Missy and Twelve! They'll be back in chapter 6 and 7 and play larger roles.
> 
> I just want to note that I of course know Eleven was the last of the Doctor's first regeneration cycle, but since Ten doesn't know about the Time Lords granting him more regenerations and what regenerations are to come, he'd have concluded that Twelve would be the next Doctor, leaving only one regeneration after that.


	5. The Doctor's Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Certain views about the Doctor's companions reflected in this chapter are not my own but what I imagine to be the Master's. Personally, I love Rose and Donna and most of the other companions.  
> This is also just my take on the Doctor's and Rose's relationship. Though I think they share a beautiful friendship, I just can't see the Doctor reciprocating her feelings for a variety of reasons, one of them being that I (quite obviously) mainly ship the Doctor with the Master. I am, however, in no way saying that a relationship between the Doctor and Rose would be unrealistic or illogical.

Things weren’t going that well for the Master. He had been humiliated, was somehow losing the ongoing prank war, and now the Doctor had decided, against explicit warnings of harassment and bodily mutilation, to adopt pets again.

First it had been the loud one, Donna, and by Rassilon could she yell. Apparently she’d run into the Doctor earlier on and had now decided to invite herself on board for more traveling because she was getting too depressed with her normal, sad human existence.

The Master had tried to kill her numerous times, first by stalling the Doctor in his rescue of her in Pompeii, then by using her as a human shield against the insane ood, and later by pointing her in the direction of a room with a vespiform waiting to just murder someone. He even tried to make sure she and the Doctor had never met by telling her of a fortune teller he’d previously paid to help him change the past. None of it worked.

It seemed like the universe itself had decided to make the Master’s life a living hell by sticking Donna with the Doctor and him. Several times, he considered simply leaving, but that would mean giving up and letting the pet win, and he was _not_ about to lose to an ape.

Thankfully, it didn’t last. In what seemed like a cruel joke, not only more companions, but also the Daleks, returned out of the blue, and along with them yet another universe-ending threat. This one had resulted in a metacrisis, creating a half-human Doctor and finally making Donna a bit intellectual by giving her Time Lord knowledge, or, more specifically, the Doctor’s knowledge. That last bit would have worried the Master - there were some things from their past that the rest of the universe were best off not knowing about - if the Doctor hadn’t repressed it and sent her home.

After then seeing everyone off, only two new passengers remained.

The Master didn’t like agreeing with that freak, Captain Harkness, but the additional Doctor _did_ make him think of… a few things they could do. Granted, the human part disgusted him, but it was still more or less the Doctor, and so the Master had insisted that they kept him. Apparently, that meant keeping the blonde girl, too.

That had started a love four-way love triangle… a love square? Anyway, Rose was obviously infatuated with the Doctor, but even he didn’t stoop as low as to have romantic feelings for feeling that about for an ape and instead, of course, loved the Master. However, the metacrisis - who called himself John - did too, and both of them wanted to keep the Doctor's and the Master's relationship secret for Rose for some reason but were quite bad at it themselves. All of this resulted in one confused and love-struck human, two angsty and not-at-all suspicious Doctors, and a Master who liked drama but not this kind of drama. It made him want to barf.

The perfect solution would be to kick Rose out and keep the Doctor and the metacrisis for himself, but she seemed dead-fast on ending up with at least one of them, so that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. That is, unless she somehow came to hate the Doctor.

The spark of an idea grew to a flame, and the Master finally had the perfect plan for a proper revenge prank.

 

* * *

 

As was usual nowadays with humans on board, they went on yet another peaceful, save-the-day type of adventure. This one had been in late renaissance England, involving an Abzorbaloff and a few Cybermen. As an end-of-the-day celebration, the Doctor had taken Rose to go watch a Shakespeare play while the Master and the metacrisis went to the market. What the Doctor didn’t know and really should have figured out was that the Master had absolutely no interest in going to the market, had hit the metacrisis over the head, stashed him away, and gone to see the play as well.

This was just the kind of opportunity he’d been waiting for. If he remembered correctly, the Doctor had bragged about once meeting Shakespeare, and if the timelines fit, the man would be more than willing to help the Doctor out.

Just before the show, the Master sought out Shakespeare behind the scenes and asked him to make a special announcement.

“You see,” the Master said, “Rose adores your plays, so it'd be perfect for the occasion.”

“Yes, of course!” said Shakespeare with a big smile. He’d seemed immensely enthusiastic ever since the Master mentioned the Doctor. “I’ll do it, just tell me the best time.”

“After the first act, in the break,” the Master said. “Just announce it and the Doctor will do the rest.”

“I’m honored,” he said. “Especially considering he chose this place among all of space and time.”

The Master gave him a surprised look. “He told you?”

“No, but I guessed as much the last time I saw him. Pray tell, are you from another world as well?”

This was just getting creepy. “Yes, how-”

“I overheard you complain about ‘the human stench’ of this city.” Shakespeare laughed. “Can’t say I disagree, London is much, but sanitary it is not.”

The Master had to admit the poet was a bit impressive, for a human. He was a useful tool, anyway.

With that taken care of, the Master went back and found a place to watch the show, both Much Ado About Nothing and the disaster that would be the Doctor’s proposal to Rose. That’d show him for not informing her that he was already in a relationship.

The show went by without a hitch. He could see the Doctor and Rose, standing closer to the stage, enjoying themselves immensely, for now. Even the Master liked the play and started rooting for the main couple to just get together already.

Then came the break between Act I and Act II, and Shakespeare himself came out on the stage to a bit applause from the audience. He spread out his arms, signaling for the crowd to quiet down.

“It is with great pleasure,” he said, “that I announce that we have a special guest in the audience tonight. And no, it’s not the Queen, not this time.”

The crowd murmured and looked around, trying to spot someone famous. Meanwhile, the Doctor looked like he was doing the old ‘oh no, someone’s going to give me praise, I’m totally too modest for that.’

“It is my good friend, the Doctor,” Shakespeare said and gestured towards the Time Lord. “He’s brought with him a woman whom he very much loves and would therefore like to publicly declare that love to the rest of the world by the promise of eternal union.”

Not as poetic as the Master had hoped for, but then again, the man hadn’t had much time to prepare. It was still worth it for the look on the Doctor’s face, which had a bad case of blushing as Rose looked at him with huge eyes and a smile from ear to ear. She was almost jumping up and down from sheer happiness, and he could hardly muster a few words.

The Doctor seemed to finally find out what to say as he looked like he was trying to explain things to Rose. Her smile grew hollow, and before he could finish, she gave him a slap that echoed around the theater and started making her way through the crowd towards the exit.

In the deafening silence, the Master did his very best to stifle his laughter as the Doctor looked in her direction in the direction where she'd left not seeming to know what to do before walking out the same way.

The Master felt a gaze on him and looked up on the stage to find Shakespeare glaring at him, having probably figured out he’d been played a fool. _Oh well, the whole world’s a stage, and it’d be boring without the drama_ , the Master thought as he escaped the theater as quickly as possible.

He found the Doctor outside the TARDIS, knocking on the doors and yelling about being let in so he could explain everything. That brought back memories.

“Congratulations,” the Master said. The Doctor whirled around to look at him, looking surprised at his arrival.

“What? I don’t have time right now,” he said and picked his sonic from his pocket. It took some time, but finally the lock clicked and he burst in.

The Master followed him with casual steps, a sly smile on his face. He was going to drink the sweet victory up a bit before confessing to anything.

Rose stood at the consoles, her makeup running down her cheeks. See, that’s why the Master used waterproof eyeliner, you never knew what kind of traumas the day would bring.

“Rose, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask him to say that, I don’t know what any of that was about,” the Doctor said.

“So you don’t love me?” she said.

“I…” he ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of what to say. “I care about you, I really do, but…”

Oh, that look in her eyes was beautiful. All that hope evaporating, and how long had the two of them traveled together? A year, maybe more? How much time had this human wasted of her so, _so_ brief existence thinking it was actually going to happen? The Master should really have brought popcorn for this.

“I’m just not enough,” she whispered almost to herself. Then she raised her tone and out came her fury. “You could have just said! You could have told me instead of leading me on, kissing me, and why did you even kiss me, then?”

“Well, that one time was actually _Cassandra_ kissing _me_ , and the other, I… I don’t know, I must have thought it was the best way to drain the power you’d absorbed from the TARDIS? I don’t know, it didn’t mean anything.”

Oh, dumb move, Doctor.

“Didn’t mean anything?” she said. “Is that it, I don’t mean anything to you? Am I really just another girl in the long line of people you’ve picked up along the way? How many were there really?”

“Well…”

“A lot,” the Master said. “Started with Susan, but she doesn’t really fall into your category, since she was definitely more important than that. Then the teachers, Barbara and Ian, right? I’m not that good at the early ones, but I think I remember a Jo, Romana, Leela, Ace, Victoria, Mel, Sarah Jane, Nyssa, Tegan, Adric, Peri, Bernice, Charley, Henry, Molly, Evelyn, Steven, hey, Doctor, does the Brigadier count? I don’t think he traveled with you like that, but he was there a lot, and there was Turlough and Frobisher and-”

“That's enough!” Rose yelled. “And who the hell _are_ you? Ever since you joined, you’ve been acting like you’re so much better than everyone else!”

“Because I am,” the Master said with a patient smile. This felt like explaining that Gallifrey was indeed round to a young Time Tot standing by their eyes telling them otherwise. “I’m the Doctor’s husband, by the way.”

The Doctor’s head whipped around. “You’re not!”

“Are so! The divorce was never finalized, you know, with you running off and all.”

“Yes, but then you died, and that automatically-!”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Sure, but-” the Doctor stopped talking as Rose ran out of the control room and further into the TARDIS. He sighed and sat down. “I asked you not to do that.”

“She was getting annoying,” the Master said. He sat down next to the Doctor. “So, I imagine you’ll want a proper divorce, then, otherwise the wedding won’t be legal, though you’ve never cared about that before. Unless she said no?”

He expected some kind of exclamation from the Doctor along the lines of, “what??? It was you??? How utterly brilliant!!!” but the Doctor simply sighed again and put his head in his hands.

“Of course,” his muffled voice said quietly. “When will I ever learn?” He then got up and walked out the way Rose had, leaving the Master with a triumphant smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proposal prank:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WMHidjDB_Uk


	6. Missy's Shot

Rose had been hurt and angry after that, and for good reason. Since she joined the Doctor and the Master in their travels, the Doctor had kept trying to think of the best way to breach the topic of their relationship, since it hadn’t worked out well with Martha or Leela. And then the Master just had to take it a step too far.

The Doctor didn’t even blame him for it; after all, it wasn’t exactly surprising behavior. Time and time again, the Master had proven to make the selfish choice, and he had done so again, this time costing the Doctor a friendship.

They’d talked, the Doctor and Rose, and gotten to the conclusion that it just wouldn’t work, with or without the Master. They wanted different things from their relationship, and going on pretending otherwise wouldn’t have been fair to either of them. She’d left after that and joined Jack and his team at Torchwood. He would probably meet her again someday, but there would be no more traveling.

As for the Master, he was a more complicated matter. It did, however, look like there was only one solution. They couldn’t keep on going either; they both loved each other deeply, but they had grown too different in the areas that mattered the most. He kept hurting people, everyone, even though the Doctor had thought he’d been the exception. He’d been wrong about that, it would seem.

When he told the Master that he had to go, he didn’t take it well. Stuff was thrown, broken, and ripped apart in his rage, while the Doctor sat by, waiting for him to cool down. He did a tiny bit, just enough to set the coordinates to where he’d parked his own TARDIS, give the Doctor a final glare, and leave.

After that, the Doctor felt more lonely than he had in a long time. Martha was living her own life, Rose too, and Donna, poor, brilliant Donna, she wouldn’t even recognize him. It seemed that everyone, in the end, left him.

He tried his best to ignore the loneliness, to go on as he always had, but it was getting harder. He met a woman, Christina, who was brave and brilliant and just the person he would have jumped at the chance of adventuring with, but it wouldn’t have ended well, it never did. One way or another, she would get hurt, and he’d be alone again with yet another ghost to haunt him.

It was about that time that he was told he would die soon. At first, he’d thought it’d be his final death, but a small part of him told him that he had a few lives left. That would mean a regeneration, then.

It wasn’t fair. His previous self, the one with the ears, had lived so briefly, not much shorter than this one had so far. He’d lasted over four hundred years in his first body, yet could only manage a handful now? There was more to do, more to see, more life to live, and it wouldn’t be  _ him _ who did it, not really. How much did a person have to change to be a completely different person? It seemed that the only thing that had remained consistent for him was the eagerness to explore. Was that enough?

He ran. The thoughts haunted him, but he ran from his destiny, from adventure to adventure, eager to get that one additional experience before changing again. But all this running had to end at one point, and that was when the Ood called him to stop the latest and biggest threat to Earth and the universe so far; not just the return of the Master, but of Rassilon himself.

That’s when a mystery that had haunted him for years was finally solved. After the Year That Never Was, the Doctor had been holding the Master, was sure he had died, and had burned his body. Then, on his very next adventure, they had meet again. By now, the Master returning from death was becoming a common occurrence, but the Doctor still felt compelled to ask how in Rassilon’s name he’d survived yet again.

There had been a pause, he was sure of that. A pause where the Master looked at him in confusion, as if it was somehow obvious, before explaining what the ring he’d worn as Harold Saxon could do. Later, the Doctor thought he had imagined it, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Because the Master had been different. Still the same body as before, but far from as insane as when he’d taken over Earth with the Toclafane. He'd even been the one to offer to travel together. He hadn’t so much as mentioned the drums and had somehow known about Gallifrey not being destroyed by the Moment.

Something must’ve happened, the Doctor already knew that by then, but it was clearer now as the Master stood at gunpoint in front of him in Naismith’s estate with no hint of remembering their recent travels together. He was more insane than ever and wasn’t even able to think straight for the drums and the results of his failed revival.

They had reunited at slightly different points in their timeline.

The knowledge didn’t make this encounter any less bitter, though. The Doctor meant it when he had said the Master could be beautiful, because he really could if only he saw the universe as something to be explored rather than conquered.

But he wasn’t going to change, and neither was the Doctor. That’s how he knew, when he aimed Wilf’s gun at the Master, seeing the same look on his face as after the second prank on Gallifrey had unfolded, that he could never do it, never mind the Master’s mysterious tendency to return from death beyond all odds.

He shifted his aim, knowing that it would send Rassilon back but still in time to take the Doctor with him. He had accepted his death. 

But the Master didn’t seem to have done the same as he attacked Rassilon, keeping him off until they all disappeared, back to the end of the Time War.

Everything was quiet as the only ones remaining were the Doctor, Wilf, and a sacrifice to be made.

 

* * *

 

The Doctor regenerated and time went on. He met Amy, Rory, and Clara, stopped the Time War while still saving Gallifrey (so  _ that’s _ how it happened!) and, when his time came, accepted regeneration as his last self hadn’t. Change was inevitable, and as he told Clara, he would always have the memories of when he was the Doctor.

He had hoped for something different with his next regeneration, though. Ginger would have been nice, and he liked to think that his body, if it had been younger, would have had hair to make Donna and Amy proud, but now it was grey. At least it was a change from the brown.

This regeneration was tougher than the last, sterner. Sometimes, he said things to Clara that he would regret afterwards, but he didn’t know how to apologize and, frankly, didn’t want to. Clara could take it, she was strong.

They seemed like made for each other, and he did wonder about that from time to time. About how they’d met, about how she’d gotten the number to the TARDIS’ phone. The answer to that, of course, came in the shape of an old friend returning.

After over a thousand years, he finally met the Master - now Missy - again. He pondered about how long it’d been for her, if maybe he was meeting her out of order yet again, but they didn’t have time as there was a whole thing going on with UNIT and Cybermen and making the Doctor the President of Earth. He felt like he had to shove the latter in her face, just a tiny bit, to show her how easy things could be when you were at least trying to be good. She could take over Earth in a year? Well, he could do it without even intending or knowing it.

Things had transpired, and she died again, this time killed by the Brigadier. The only reason that he wasn’t furious with him because of it was that he was almost certain she would yet again return, and because he had almost been forced to take it into his own hands.

Clara left after that. PE had died and she'd had enough of traveling. That was fine. Completely fine. Then he’d just go on on his own for while.

But as he did that, five words kept haunting him. There, in the graveyard, Missy had said she wanted her friend back, and she'd sounded so believable. She’d looked as desperate as when the Doctor asked her to leave over a thousand years ago, and that had awakened some memories the Doctor had been trying his best to forget ever since.

He thought of an idea for another prank, and then thought of a thousand reasons why getting involved again was a very bad idea, but with each one came the thought, “so what?”

 

* * *

If you asked Missy for her favorite extreme sport, the answer would most likely be “chess,” and if you were from Earth, you might wonder how that could possibly be extreme. That would probably be because you had never witnessed a match of chess on the planet Thechotsa Kei.

The whole of Kei - as it was more commonly known as - was dedicated to the only version of chess which involved both explosives, real-life people used as game pieces, lava, _and_ telepathic pineapple seeds. It was also famous for being extremely violent with a survival rate of only 7% per game for either player, regardless of whether they actually won. While the rules were complicated, the essentials of the game were ‘be smart and don’t die.’ It was like the game had been made for Missy.

She had been a regular for years, won every game, and only technically died a couple of times. That game was part of the reason why, while the Doctor had still been in his third incarnation, the Master had been in his thirteenth.

Now, Missy was playing her latest match, and the Doctor was watching. It was obvious that she’d already won; her bishop had just taken out a handful of the enemy’s pieces with a nuclear bomb, and her king had already eaten  _ three _ pineapples. She could have ended the game some time ago, but had been taunting her opponent. But now she looked ready to strike, and it didn’t take long for her to send the other player into the lava pit.

It should be noted that the Doctor  _ in no way _ condoned the game. That they had taken such a brilliant game as chess and made it so barbaric was a tragedy, and the death toll was simply horrendous, but it  _ did _ fascinate him how many different strategies the new rules allowed. During the game, Missy had made moves that he hadn’t even thought of, some of them even better than what he’d have done. For example, while taxing her rooks so much had ostensibly been a huge risk, it paid off when she was able to afford the star cruiser to reach the opponent’s sky castle and destroy the enemy queen.

After officially being deemed the winner, she walked out of the arena to prepare herself for The Shot. The Shot was a reward for winning and surviving a game of chess on Kei. It allowed to the player to - while blindfolded -  try throwing a miniaturized version of the enemy king into a special lava pit so small it could be compared to the size of a hole on a golf course. It was also behind two rotating wheels with only slightly bigger holes in them and a pink monkey that was notorious for catching the piece in mid-air. It was said that, if you made the shot, you won a powerful weapon, the Arm of Atamsya, but while the Doctor had no doubt that Missy and plenty of other winners throughout the game’s history had tried their best, no one had succeeded.

Now she was going to be given another chance, and the Doctor would make sure she thought she’d win. He walked down into the arena, careful to not step on any of the dead chess pieces, and took a microphone from one of the personnel. He’d talked it over with them before the game and made sure to get permission.

“Hello, ladies, gentlemen, and variations thereupon!” the Doctor said. “What a great match, huh?”

The people cheered. The Doctor didn’t like going into detail about the kind of people who watched Chess on Kei, but they usually did it either for the intriguing strategic moves, the many deaths, or worse: both.

“I’m going to ask you a favor,” the Doctor said when they’d somewhat quieted down. “You see, the woman who just won is an old friend of mine, and I thought it would be fun to prank her a bit. Would you help me with that?”

They cheered again.

“Great! Now, when she takes The Shot, we all know she’ll most likely fail, but I want you all to act like she made it. I want you to scream and cheer and be as loud as you can be and as you’ve been during the game today! Can you do that?”

Again, they cheered, and the Doctor walked out of the arena. Soon after, in came Missy, holding the king. She was blindfolded, ready to shoot, she shot and… missed. But the crowd cheered, louder than they had all throughout the game, and Missy grinned as she took off the blindfold. 

People came out to congratulate her, and the Doctor ran out with “the Arm of Atamsya,” an intricate gun so big it hid the upper half of his body as he made his way to her. She took it and smiled to the crowd. Then she quickly turned her attention to him as he put his arm around her waist, and her face fell with recognition.

This one didn’t take long to sink in. The moment she saw his face, her eyes turned to ice and she started tramping around the arena, yelling High Gallifreyan profanities.

Meanwhile, the Doctor got out his microphone and spoke to the audience again. “Thank you, you’ve been wonderful!”

Missy then picked up her prize and pointed it at the Doctor. “I’ve still got the Arm of Atamsya. I’d be careful if I were you.”

“Actually,” the Doctor held a hand over the microphone, “it’s more of a very elaborate toothbrush. I fixed it up for this occasion.”

She growled, threw it on the ground, and stomped out of the arena. The Doctor thanked the crowd again before following her out.

 

* * *

“So,” Missy said, her nails tapping on the door to the TARDIS, “what happened when I threw the king?”

“It missed,” the Doctor said. “By a lot.”

It looked like Missy was fighting down a smile and losing the battle. The Doctor felt much the same way; it’d been too long since he properly messed with her.

“And you made them cheer?”

“Exactly.”

She snorted. For a moment, they just stood there in silence.

“Did you really think you’d made it?”

“Yes!” she said with the widest smile the Doctor could remember since they were young. She then shook her head and looked to the TARDIS. “Would be nice to talk it over inside over a cuppa, don’t you think?”

The Doctor sighed. “Missy-”

“Just a cup of tea.” Her expression was serious, and he felt all resistance disappear. “I'm not gonna stay long, just for a talk. Been a long time since we had one of those.”

It had. He nodded and they headed in. She then commented on his change of TARDIS decoration, said she didn’t like it, and they found their way to the tea room.

She left a few hours later, but they would meet again; they always did. And she did, in the end, move back in with the Doctor. Seventy years they spent together at that university, seventy years and the vow of almost a thousand more, based on her promise on trying to be good. Later, he’d wonder if that pivotal moment was a part of her final prank, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half Court Shot prank:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bI7AUgp5fPI


	7. The Doctor and Basically Everyone Else Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last chapter, finally! I apologize for the long wait and hope that you enjoy the last part of the journey.

Took that grumpy old man long enough to respond. Really, she knew they were Time Lords and lived long lives and all that, but 1000 years was still  _ way _ too long to plan the sabotage of a chess game. It was still one of his better ones, though.

They saw each other more after that, but it took a while for her to move in. After all, that Clara girl was still traveling with him, and she wasn't all too happy about Missy. A quick trip to Skaro didn't change that.

Still, Missy had decided that she was going to be a strong, independent Time Lady and not move right back in with her husband/ex-husband (they still couldn’t agree on that, though it hardly made a difference) after the horrible way he’d kicked her out last time. As far as she remembered, it had been a total exaggeration on his part.

But she did drop in now and then. Those visits were either infuriatingly hilarious or hilariously infuriating, almost always starting with polite small talk and ending with heated arguments and hate sex. There were just some things they would never agree on, though they never stopped trying in their own, special way.

The rest of the time she spent doing her own thing, whether that be killing old “friends,” getting revenge on magical teddy bears, or trying to take over a few planets. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. 

She had a hoot of it all, really, until she was caught.  _ Missy _ , the most feared renegade the Prydonian Chapter had produced - maybe except for Rallon during his Celestial Toymaker phase - had been caught and then sentenced to execution. It brought back bad memories of Daleks screaming and then crawling around as a ghost snake.

She tried to flee, multiple times. Unfortunately, they seemed to have a file on her, because they knew to send hypnosis-resistant guards to check on her and refused any requests for innocent entertainments that could be fashioned into deadly weapons being brought to her. They didn’t even give her a bowl and cutlery along with her food. She’d have to eat it from the ground with her bare hands like some kind of animal if she’d had any appetite for it. Instead, she’d pushed it aside, in time forming a pile of grey gruel in the corner of her cell.

Finally, when her execution came, she had a chance to escape. It all came down to one person making the  _ right _ choice for once.

She knew of these executioners, you see, and although their whole way of life was taking away the life of others - a thing she’d often heard the Doctor describe as  _ bad _ \- they still lived by a moral code. They believed that for a proper execution, a person should be executed by someone from the same species. In her case, it meant a Time Lord, and since the Doctor had never missed any of her previous executions, it’d probably be him showing up. And as luck would have it, he did.

Then she’d started working, charming her way to his heart as only she could with a few sarcastic comments, condolences for one of his spouses’ death, and promises of change. It was the latter that seemed to affect him, so it was the one she pressed for. 

To be honest, all her talk about being good had been pure bluff, but she really did want her friend back, she meant that much. Even though it hurt when he asked her to leave, even though it hurt when he threatened her life “for the good of others,” he was like a drug to her, and she could never get enough. Maybe he felt the same. Maybe that’s why he would never pull the trigger, never push the button, never pull the lever without first having sabotaged the machine meant to kill her.

And that’s, in short, how she ended up with a 1000 year stay in villain rehab. That should leave plenty of time to think of a new prank, right?

 

* * *

Missy yelled as she tore down the blackboard and threw the chalk across the room.

Another bad idea. Another day, another year, another  _ decade _ , and another moment she was wasting, failing to think up anything even remotely satisfying for a final prank. Because that’s the thing; she knew it would be the last. Doing anything less than any of her previous ones would feel wrong, would feel like a failure, but if the Doctor threw her out for simply having a bit of fun with Rosey, there was no telling how he’d get if she went more extreme.

It’d have to be big, something to scare him to wits’ end. She could think of so many disasters to cause this, everything from kidnapping and torturing his former pets to doing another version of humans committing genocide on humans, but she couldn’t quite make herself do it anymore. As much as a part of her wanted the satisfaction of seeing all the blood, all the death, another part of her had become… repulsed.

The promise of turning good had been a lie, of course it had, but somewhere along the way the Doctor’s methods had actually started working. She remembered past deeds, remembered the victims, and felt regret. Shame. Guilt. It was all quite overwhelming, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t wish she could just turn it all off again. It still allowed her to think of some decently horrific pranks, it just stopped her from actually bringing them to life.

But if she couldn’t do it now, maybe she could have done it earlier…

That gave her an idea. Asking someone else for help would definitely had counted as cheating, at least in her mind, but asking  _ herself _ for help should be allowed. It was still her, after all.

There was only one problem, and that was getting into contact with a previous version of herself. She was currently locked in a vault, had been so for quite a number of years now, and though she was allowed some necessities and means of entertainment, she highly doubted the Doctor would let her contact such bad influences as her previous incarnations had been. She’d have to be sneaky to pull it off.

Another plan would have to be conducted, one that would require all of the Doctor’s attention. So, she did just that. It wasn’t hard thinking of something evil-yet-not-really-evil; apparently women  on this planet had been fighting and losing to an ancient enemy, one of such corruption and imagination that not even the Time Lords had ever thought of it: the patriarchy. And a messy way to deal with it that the Doctor would surely not approve of and try his best to stop would be to mess with the timelines.

After gathering just the right equipment, easily being able to obtain them under the bald hobgoblin called Nardole’s nose, Missy sent out messages to women of powerful positions throughout all of history and a single letter to a sweet girl on Pilthal with instructions of giving it to the first round-faced man with an exquisite goatee she stumbled upon. As Pilthalians couldn’t grow facial hair, this would inevitably end up with the Master shortly before his mind control prank.

She felt a smirk on her lips as she wrote the message. It did ring a bell, a note she had received so long ago. She had investigated, followed the coordinates once the Doctor had fallen asleep, and then… something. The whole thing was hazy.

Just as she’d sent out the last message, she heard what sounded suspiciously like someone arriving by means of a vortex manipulator, and she turned around to see one sour-looking, round-faced Master pointing a laser screwdriver at her.

“Who are you? Did you send the message?” he ordered.

“Yes, I did, and hello to you. Would you like some tea?” She looked around the room, then snapped her fingers and made a mock-sad face. “Sorry. Completely forgot I’m not allowed anything to heat it with. Iced tea, then?”

“ _ Who are you _ ?” he said through gritted teeth. When she just smiled, he pushed a button and the laser screwdriver started charging up. She knew it was just a scare tactic but thought she’d indulge him a bit.

“Fine. I’m Missy.” She curtsied.

“ _ Missy _ , then. And how did you know my name? Did the Do-” He paused, frowned, and looked her over. He then took in their surroundings.

There were signs everywhere. Their favorite eyeliner was lying on the piano, a VHS of  _ the Clangers _ was at the TV set, and she even had a paperback novel about Koschei the Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente displayed on her bookshelf. Really, she would have been disappointed if she would have had to tell him outright herself, like she’d done with the Doctor.

The Master sighed and put away the laser screwdriver. “So. I’ll have to learn to walk in heels?”

Her smile grew. “Don’t worry, it’s easy once you get used to the pain.”

“Right…” He eyed her suspiciously. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve just got to make sure this isn’t some kind of trick. What kind of tea did Chantho use to make me?”

“Mango. Now, no more wasting time, I want this done with before the Doctor notices.” She walked towards him and put her hand on the vortex manipulator. A short moment after, they were gone.

 

* * *

 

“Daleks?”

“Just met up with them. Scratched Davros’ eye out. Next.”

“Something involving dead people?”

“Did that. Next.”

“Plastic furniture suffocating people?”

“Nice reference. Too unoriginal, though.”

The Master sighed and stroked his goatee. By Rassilon did she miss that goatee.

“What about something involving a pet?” he said. “Maybe making one of the lovesick ones think the Doctor is proposing-”

“That’s  _ your _ next one. It’s good and all, but I want to top it. One final prank, one for the books.”

“Well, I don’t see why you called me if you’re just going to shoot down my every idea.” He was starting to get frustrated, and so was she. They had been hiding out in one of their bases in 23rd century London for three days, drawing up plans on the blackboard, ordering take away food, and arguing. It wasn’t as bad as with the Doctor, but it was getting there. She could now see how thick-headed she had been, how stubborn, and if only the Master could focus on anything other than bloodshed, maybe she could stop lecturing him and sounding so pious. She was really starting to worry that the Doctor had somehow gotten to her.

The Master took the list he’d been writing on, crumbled it into a ball, and threw it at her. She glared in return. They were each sitting in an armchair, the fireplace roaring behind them and the blackboard filled with horrible ideas in front of them.

“What about Cybermen, then?” the Master asked, sounding bored.

“I mixed that one with the dead people one. Made them come back as Cybermen. Came back to bite me, that one, when the Brigadier tried to shoot me.”

“The Brigadier?” Now he sounded interested. “He was an annoyance, but a likable one. Old school.”

Old school. Maybe there was something in that. Old school… Cybermen? Maybe from one of their beginnings, maybe…

“Mondasian Cybermen?” the Master asked with a raised eyebrow.

“On the ship from Mondas, right at their beginning!” Missy said, sitting up straight. “But we need to get him there…”

“...With a distress beacon, perhaps. You could go on a trip, and when his TARDIS receives the signal…”

“...He won’t be able to resist! We’ll arrive, and when we do, an army of Cybermen will be waiting. I’ll then say my promise was a lie-”

“-Which it of course was, right?”

“-And he’ll be so surprised by…” She sunk back in her seat. “No, he won’t. We’ve betrayed him too many times for it to truly shock him.”

They both sat in thought for a time, until the Master quietly said, “But how many of his human friends have we killed?”

She blinked. “I don’t think we ever have.”

“And didn’t you say he’d just gotten a new one?”

“Bill, a girl. And the gnome, too, if you count him.”

“Two, even better! Imagine the look on his face.”

She could. She had seen them all by now. Would he be heartbroken? Furious? Or - worst of all - disappointed?

“Then we can’t really do it,” she said. “We can pretend they’ve been turned into Cybermen and stash them away somewhere in the meantime. Make him believe we were the cause of it. Then, afterwards, we show him it was all a trick.”

The Master stood up. “What’s even the point, then? Did he go, ‘oh, nevermind, I didn’t  _ really _ mess with your playlist, I didn’t  _ really  _ humiliate you in front of the whole of Prydon’? Since when did I get so… so  _ weak _ ?”

Missy looked at herself, her past self, and remembered how fun and easy life had been. She hadn’t  _ cared _ , not really, and it had made having fun so much simpler. A gunshot here, a decapitation there, she had always thought it didn’t matter anyway, because  _ they weren't her _ . But somewhere along the line, she had started to see why killing and pillaging shouldn’t be as easy as all that.

“No,” Missy said. “We can go with it, make it as realistic as possible, but I don’t want to actually kill anyone this time.” She smiled. “Look at it like a challenge of sorts.”

He seemed to think it over and, in the end, nodded grudgingly. “Fine. But then we have to make it  _ big _ , bigger than just two pretend-murders. What about pretend-killing the Doctor? We did that once, I know, but back then it was different, it always is when you’re young.”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about!” She went up to the blackboard, picked up the chalk, and gave her previous self a sly smile. “Let’s kill the Doctor.”

 

* * *

 

A day later for her and a second later for the vault, she got a lift from the Master who then right after went to get his own TARDIS. She was worried the Doctor or his pet Nerd Doll had picked up the use of the vortex manipulator, but when she ate dinner with the Doctor later that afternoon - Mexican takeaway, she was getting quite fond of it - he didn’t mention it. In the end, she decided that even if he had noticed, it wouldn’t matter. He would still be surprised.

A month later, she took the TARDIS back to pick up the Doctor and Bill who had somehow gotten themselves stranded on Mars. Then she got to stay in the TARDIS while the others were running around in old Scotland. Really, it was all rather boring compared to what her previous travels had been like, but at least she was getting close to the Doctor so she could later crush him. Because that was still what she wanted, right?

Then finally,  _ finally _ , after 70 years that had felt like an eternity and a minute all at once, they got to the conclusion: the Mondasian colony ship. It was a seemingly random destination to the Doctor but precisely planned by Missy. Yet, she actually didn’t have much of an idea what awaited her.

When discussing their plan, Missy had given the Master mostly free reigns, as long as he stayed within the “no permanent damage” limits. It had take quite some persuasion, especially when she wanted the Cybermen’s electrical charge to be turned non-lethal. It would still be painful, and you might think you were about to die for a second, but it couldn’t even hurt a human, not to mention a Time Lord. The same would account for the personnel’s guns.

Or, at least, it  _ should _ have accounted to the personnel’s guns, but either Missy was hallucinating or the Master had somehow become  _ extremely _ adapt at faking gaping holes in a human’s chest, because Bill looked like she might need immediate medical attention. Of course, both Missy and the Doctor knew it could be patched up just fine with the right technology, not even leaving a scar if treated quickly enough, but the Doctor didn’t know it would be here, waiting for her wherever she was taken. One fake-killed companion down, another to go.

Missy winked at the camera in the ceiling while the Doctor yelled at the blue man. Honestly, the man had no brain; even while he knew the vast time difference between this floor and the one Bill would be taken to _,_ he sure took his time explaining basic physics to the dumb-dumbs considering that he could have just taken the elevator straight away, doing his little speech and being a know-it-all there if he liked, and saved Bill a few years earlier.

When they finally did take the elevator, the ride felt surprisingly long. The air was tense; the Doctor stared ahead, attack-eyebrows in full action, and Nardole was just twiddling his thumbs.

Missy reached out, taking the Doctor’s hand in hers.

“I’m sorry about what he did,” she told him. “If she’s dead - or about to be - at least she got to do something meaningful. Think, if you’d left her alone, she would have just withered away of old age. It's a good death.”

He looked at her, all anger and sorrow and confusion. Maybe he actually thought she was doing her best to comfort him, which might be why he didn’t respond, simply looking ahead again. He was busy blaming himself, that much was obvious, and hopefully what she had said would make it a bit worse. Maybe there was something to this - doing evil without actually doing evil. It came with the same rewards but none of the consequences.

Finally, they reached floor 1056. As the doors slid open, Missy almost expected to see herself, maybe with a small army of Cybermen behind him, but there was nothing but an empty room filled with computers. The Doctor did a quick distribution of tasks, and Missy refrained from complaining about him being bossy again because he had the good manners to compliment her a bit. After they left, she kept on pretending to do research on their situation while keeping an eye out for the Master.

“Hello,” a man with a horrible accent said behind her. Great, one of the Mondasians must have been lurking about. Weren’t all the humans on the ship supposed to have been upgraded by now?

“Hello, ordinary person,” she said, going back to looking through the computer. “Please maintain a minimum separation of three feet. I’m  _ really _ trying not to kill anyone today, it would be tremendously helpful if your major arteries were out of reach.”

He laughed and clapped his hands. She decided she wasn’t doing anything important anyway and turned around, taking what looked like a homeless person in. Then it dawned on her. If she hadn’t been expecting him, she might not have seen through the disguise, but now that she recognized the round face, the eyes, it was obvious.

“Why hello, you.” She walked towards him and ripped off the ridiculous beard. “That was actually a good one, but I’m not sure there are many Eastern European Mondasians.”

They both turned their heads as a shrill shriek echoed through the hallway.

“The bald one?” the Master asked.

“Yes, think so,” Missy said. “Must admit, he’s not one of the better ones. How’s Bill?”

“Annoying. Very annoying. All, ‘oh, Doctor!’ in the beginning, but once she realized it’d be a while for you to get here, she mellowed down a bit. But the last few months were intolerable.”

“Right. How long were we exactly?”

“I don’t know, ten years give or take? Should we get on with this or not?”

She gestured towards where the Doctor and Nardole had gone. “After you.”

They didn’t have to go far before they heard their voices.

“Bill?” the Doctor said, his voice shaking just the tiniest bit if she heard right. “Bill, talk to me. What have they done to you?”

“Operation Exodus, whatever that is,” Nardole said, stating the obvious.

“Well, wrong name for a start,” Missy said as she walked in the room. The others turned their heads to see her, then focused their attention on what they thought had once been their friend. How sweet.

“I WAITED,” said the Cyberman with its mechanical voice. Nice detail, a reference to earlier. She’d have to remember to praise herself for that.

She walked towards the Cyberman, positioning herself beside it, facing the Doctor. “This is not an Exodus, is it? More of a beginning, really, isn’t it?”

“I WAITED,” the tin man repeated. Really, she had forgotten how obnoxious they could be.  


“In fact, do you know what I’d call it?”

She could see the look tense on the Doctor’s face as he immediately recognized the voice. Oh, this was already so much worth it. He slowly turned around until he was face to face with a smiling Master. 

Her previous self then walked around too and went to the other side of the Cyberman. It wasn’t anything they had practiced or talked about, but it must have looked brilliantly threatening.

“I’d call it a “Genesis,”” the Master said.

“You’ve met the ex?” Missy said. She would give the Doctor the satisfaction of winning that little argument if it meant pretend-stabbing him in the back.

“Specifically, the Genesis of the Cybermen,” the Master said. Now, that could actually be a nice movie title. She would have to remember it just in case.

The Cyberman, and oh, how  _ theatrical _ it was, lifted an arm as if to reach out for the Doctor, saying, “I WAITED FOR YOU.”

And the Doctor was still just staring. Really, the look was great and all, but she  _ was _ missing some of the, “oh no,” or, “how could you?” comments. Maybe the thin one in the suit had just been a better prank victim. Now that she thought about it, maybe the one with the rainbow coat would have been even better. Oh well, nothing to do about it now.

The two Masters went on to royally kick their asses.

 

* * *

 

Dancing was nice, tying up the Doctor even more so, and the Master’s idea of menacingly circling him when he was coming to was brilliant, but really, his panicked face when the Doctor announced that the Cybermen would now go for the Time Lords was a bit too much. Missy knew that the Doctor of course didn’t know the Cybermen’s weaponry was mostly harmless, and they had to keep the act up. Still, fleeing seemed like… an anticlimactic thing to do. She still followed, knowing the Master must have something up his sleeve.

However, she started doubting him during their stay at a farmhouse that could have been the prime definition of the word ‘dull.’ Nothing even remotely evil or prank-y was done except for some snide remarks, and Missy was just about to just give it up several times. She would have, too, if not for the Master insisting that, no, they couldn’t just go back in his TARDIS, it was ‘out of order,’ whatever that meant, and continuously assuring her that something was to happen, something  _ excellent _ . She would just have to show him some trust, though, for some reason, she found it difficult.

And where was Bill? It had been weeks since Missy saw her last, a  _ decade _ on her end. She hoped that the Master had left her the essential means to survive, otherwise she would have a hard word with him. 

Then, finally, the time had come. She could feel it, or rather, see it by her previous self repeatedly checking the time that morning. Whenever she asked him what was going to happen - it annoyed her endlessly that she barely knew the plan of her own prank - he grumbled, mumbling something about, “soon.”

They were outside on the porch, and Missy was just about to ask him again when the Doctor walked out. They hadn’t talked much since the whole fake-betrayal thing. Mostly, he just avoided her, and she him. But this time, the Cyberman was at his side, awkwardly walking towards them. So it had finally “woken up,” then.

“Hello, Bill,” the Master said with that horrible accent from earlier. He then looked back towards the field and switched to his normal voice. “Glad you could make it for the show.”

The Cyberman was quiet, staring emptily at the Master. The Doctor was just about to speak when he was interrupted.

“You were  _ so _ obnoxious these past few years,” the Master said. “Just thought you should know. Oh,” he gestured to Missy, “and you figured it out, right? I’m her, she’s me. Time Lord and all that.”

“Time  _ Lady _ , thank you very much,” Missy said.

He made another sexist comment. There had been a surprisingly big amount from him since they started their partnership. She really couldn’t remember having been  _ that _ bad, but then again, Lucy Saxon might disagree.

The Cyberman remained quiet, turned around, and walked out on the field.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” the Master called after it, but he was ignored.

She found the Doctor staring at her. “What?” she snapped.

He sighed, leaning on the column. He had been doing that a lot lately, leaning on things. He seemed tired all the time, and she wanted so badly to tell him that he wasn’t as invincible as he sometimes thought he was and to ask what was wrong. But she had to keep up the role, just a little while longer. She had finally realized, while staying at the farmhouse, that it was all a role now. How about that, she really  _ had _ turned good.

“I guess I just expected more,” he said and ran a hand across his face, the one bound in bandage. Had he cut himself? “Stupid of me.”

“Quite,” the Master said. He took a glance at his watch, then smiled at the Doctor. “Tell me, what are you going to do when the Cybermen show up? You can’t win, there’s too many.”

“I’ll fight as hard as I can. Because it’s  _ right.  _ B ecause it’s  _ kind _ .”

“So you’ll just die.”

The Doctor shrugged. “We all have to, some day. Even you.”

“Of course. Well, I guess this is it, then.” The Master stood up, walked over to the Doctor. “Well fought, but I win.”

The Doctor looked exasperatedly at him. “Win what?”

“The prank war.” The Master then gestured towards the field where… stuff happened.

One moment, the Cyberman was walking by itself, surrounded by the perfect picture of bliss: green grass, a blue sky, children playing in the background. Then, an explosion went off underneath it as a ship blasted through the floor and landed, revealing brand-new Cybermen, evolved to a much more advanced state. They marched out, one after another, and more explosions were heard and seen in the distance as more ships arrived with more Cybermen. They would be unstoppable.

Missy thought that would be it, the final revenge being an epic, seemingly unwinnable fight against one of the Doctor’s oldest enemies, which he would think would end in another regeneration or maybe worse. It would have been enough, it really would, but the Master had been told that this would most certainly be the  _ last ever _ prank and had gone all out.

What happened next probably lasted only a few seconds, and a human would have missed most of it, but Missy was indeed a Time Lady. Her sense of time was different, her senses sharper, and she caught more of the chaos that ensued than would seem possible. From the holes the Cybermen had arrived through rose up Daleks, screaming “EXTERMINATE!” and not hesitating in attacking Cybermen and the children that were still left. Then the first portal opened and a version of the Doctor, the one with the celery, was dropped into the chaos along with three of his friends, and they ran in panic, but the Doctor and the man were shot. Then another two portals, which brought with it another Doctor, this one with curly hair and a Victorian outfit, and a blond girl and a lizard-looking man, and they were quicker to hide. In the other portal, however, came out Silurians, and from yet another one came the Thals. So many opened, and she caught glimpses of Zygons, Raxacoricofallapatorians, Drashig, a Nimon, the Daemons, Weeping Angels, Menoptera, a yeti, Axons, Ice Warriors, a couple of the Great Vampires, Vespiforms, and many, many more. There were so many, and it was a wonder how the field and surrounding forest could fit them all, yet allow for the bloodbath that was taking place.

More incarnations of the Doctor came, too. So many, some she recognized, others she guessed were him, and then there were all of their friends. Some she didn’t know, a few looked like when she had last seen them, whenever that was, but some looked older, like they had been snatched up later in life. She also noted some copies: two Leelas; two Doctors with long scarves; two Martha Joneses; three Brigadiers, one without a mustache, one trying to strangle the Victorian-looking Doctor, and one normal, grumpy one; at least two almost identical Amy Ponds, with the exception that one of them was pregnant, and another one looking much older; there were seemingly two versions of the doctor with the pinstriped suit; there were  _ five _ Peris; and  _ even more _ Clara Oswalds.

One special portal caught here eye, because not only did the short Doctor with the mop of black hair and the one who had been stranded on Earth for a while drop out, but also what really looked to be  _ Omega himself _ . Another one opened, this one with a glimpse of her blond Harold Saxon self in the background and  _ Rassilon _ being dropped down.

It was chaos, simple and true, and the hundreds if not thousands of different beings scattered around the floor of the colony ship died gruesome deaths, or would have been about to if not for an explosion so quick, so hot, so powerful that Missy scarcely sensed it before she felt the familiar embrace of death.

 

* * *

 

Darkness turned to blinding light, and silence turned to a mad laughter. It took her awhile to come to and to process what on Gallifrey had just happened. As the light dimmed and her sight came back, she sat up from where she was lying on the porch. Her body felt as refreshed as ever, but her mind was numb, and it was hard to concentrate.

The field.

She looked at it, and it seemed as before, green, undisturbed, and peaceful. Children were sitting, scattered around where they had been playing before. Most were crying while others were in numb, in shock. Bill was there, right where the Cyberman had been walking before everything had started. She had her hands in her hair, then felt around her body, and in the end fell back on the grass and sobbed loudly.

Missy then looked around the porch and realized that the laughter was coming from the Master. He was lying down too and laughing so hard that tears were running down his cheeks. She clambered over to him, leaned over him, and slapped him as hard as she could. That finally stopped his laughter, and she fell back down on the floor, feeling like all of her energy had been drained out of her.

She didn’t know how long they lied there. Her feeling of time was not working, and she dozed off, relaxing for what felt like the first time in millennia.

Finally, she spoke. “What was that?”

“Paradoxes,” the Master said numbly. “So many paradoxes that my new paradox machine couldn’t take it.”

Of course, his TARDIS. That would explain his “out of order” comments from earlier. The explosion, that must have been his TARDIS dying, not being able to take the pressure from so many paradoxes, so many people who were never meant to be there.  He couldn’t have calculated the outcome, that they would return afterwards, that the web of time would be able to take it. As her feeling of time and space around her slowly returned, she could feel the enormous strain on time it had put on this place. And so near a black hole at that.

“You win,” a voice said.

Missy turned her head just enough to see the Doctor lying on the porch too. She would have giggled, maybe come with another snide remark if she had felt like actually doing anything ever again. She had won.

That’s when it hit her. She hadn’t won anything. This prank hadn’t just been on the Doctor, it had been on her, too. It hadn’t been what they had agreed on, a few fake Cybermen and empty threats. The Cybermen had been real, she knew that now, and Bill really had been turned if her lying on the field crying was anything to go by. Not to mention what had just happened. She had been played just as much as the Doctor.

She gave a long sigh and decided to admit it. “You win.”

The three of them lied there, fell asleep, and woke up again the next morning. It was a bit of a blur, but she and the Doctor dropped off the Master with his own Doctor, and they tried to put on a show like nothing had happened, but then it was just the two of them again. 

The Doctor should have yelled, Missy should have defended her actions. They had promised each other a thousand years, and it hadn’t really been  _ her _ who had done it, but then again, it had. And even if it hadn't, she had still allowed the Master to take over. After all, hadn’t she asked for his help, expecting him to do something she couldn't, something evil?

When the Doctor and Missy stood before each other, she didn’t think about what she should say or what she should do. She thought of the chaos, of monsters of all sorts killing each other, of all the blood, of seeing her worst nightmares right before her, all at once, and of dying,  _ twice _ . And if she remembered both times with complete clarity, she didn’t want to imagine what the Doctor felt.

She looked at his hand, the damaged one, and saw the glimmer of a faint golden light. Oh. Seemed like the Master had gotten to kill him anyway. That did it, she supposed.

So she left, and he let her without another word. They would meet again, but that would have be after a long, long nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!
> 
> Free Fall Prank:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8zO69d-FY4c
> 
> This last one wasn't really inspired by CollegeHumor's prank, but I thought I'd link it anyway because it's good and I have with all the others. I just want to note that none of the pranks between Amir and Streeter are real - both knew about it and planned it together. I just wanted to write it at this one in case someone thought Amir was really making Streeter think he was falling to his death. That would be wrong on so many levels.
> 
> I had so much fun writing this! Hope you all have a wonderful day :)


End file.
